


Have a Little Faith

by stellarmeadow



Series: Faith [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Profiler
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Community: help_japan, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you handle a threat against your partner when you're juggling work and a new relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/gifts).



> First off, this is for the awesome celli, who bought me in the help_japan auction and requested a crossover between Hawaii Five-0 and Profiler. I will forever be grateful, because it reminded me how much I loved that show and those two, and inspired me to rewatch some episodes, and it was so much fun to write.
> 
> If you're not familiar, Profiler was a show on NBC from 1996 - 2001, a show that celli TOTALLY hooked me on (I had no intention of watching it until she said the magic words "Julian McMahon"). It starred Ally Walker as Samantha "Sam" Waters, a Profiler being tormented by a serial killer who killed her husband, among many other people, Julian McMahon as John Grant, a cop who became an agent working on the Violent Crimes Task Force (VCTF), and some other people. Okay, so the other people were good, but Sam and John were the important ones! Oh, there was also George (played by Peter Frechette), who was their computer guru, and resident guy with a live-in-boyfriend, which was, let's face it, kind of risqué for an NBC drama in 1996!
> 
> If you are familiar, then you need to know I messed with the timeline of Profiler - I set the events of the show around 2003-2005, kept the older Chloe, and kept Sam with the VCTF.
> 
> Also, this story is a sequel of sorts to Hit the Ground Running, but you don't necessarily have to have read it to read this one, I don't think. It refers back to things that happened in the story, but gives enough context to follow. However, if you wanted to know what happened to Steve and Danny after Hit the Ground Running, here you go! :)
> 
> Oh, one more note--I started this in July and barely managed to finish it just in time, because the promo for this Monday's episode made me want to get this posted before it aired. Oh show, get out of my head! :)

Steve checked his watch as he flipped through the mail on his desk, hoping to get through the pile before Danny arrived. He never understood how he could get through the mail each day and yet there was a pile just as big waiting on him the next morning. The first month they'd been in business, he'd let the pile grow until Danny had laid into him about paperwork that hadn't gotten done that had led to a whole nightmare involving what Danny assured him was four times the amount of paperwork that he'd have had to fill out if Steve had only opened his damn mail. He'd heard about it every day for a month, and still heard about it occasionally.

Since then he'd found time to open the mail almost daily.

The fourth envelope seemed just like the others until he pulled out the newspaper article inside and froze at the headline ' _Navy SEAL Slain_.' He swallowed carefully as he read the story, vaguely registering Danny entering the office, complaining about something.

"What's that?" Danny asked, appearing suddenly at Steve's side.

Steve shoved the article back into the envelope. "Sorry. what were you saying?" He tried to play back a few of the words in his head and quickly realized what the problem was. "Oh, the scratch? Sorry. I'll have it fixed."

"Seriously?" Danny frowned down at him. "You're being accommodating about the car? About taking care of having a little scratch fixed?" Danny's frown deepened, his gaze flickering to the envelope, then back to Steve's face. "What was that article?"

"Just a guy I kinda knew in the SEALs." Steve said. "He was murdered last month. I hadn't heard."

"Oh," Danny laid a hand on Steve's shoulder, warm and comforting. "I'm sorry."

Steve shrugged carefully to avoid dislodging Danny's hand. "I didn't know him that well, it's just...." He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"That particular 'nothing' voice usually ends up getting me shot at. Or actually shot. Out with it."

"I've been getting articles for the last week or so," Steve said slowly, wondering why he was even bothering about some crackpot. "First one was about a mission that the sender suggested I might have been involved in."

"Were you?"

Steve raised an eyebrow and smirked. "That's classified."

"Not, apparently, to whoever sent you the article."

"True."

Danny leaned against the desk. "So were the other ones missions?"

"No, the other two were other dead SEALs. This one makes three. All murdered. None of them on active duty."

"You think someone's trying to get you to look into it?"

Steve's hands went up, palms up. "I can't imagine why. They were in three separate states on the mainland. There's no connection to Hawaii."

"But you were all SEALs."

"It's nothing," Steve said again. "Just forget about it."

"Right." Danny gave him the 'you will talk, perp' stare, and Steve tried not to squirm. "It's nothing."

Steve huffed. "Let it go, Danny."

Danny eyed him for a long moment. "Fine," he said, pushing off the desk. "Then did you sign off on all the files I left on your desk yesterday?" he asked, nodding at the pile of folders on the other side of Steve's desk.

Blinking at the sudden change of topic--it wasn't like Danny to just let something go that easily--Steve nodded, looking at the stack. "All done."

"Good. Then you won't mind if I take them."

He leaned across the desk, and Steve tried to ignore how good Danny smelled as his shoulder was mere inches from Steve's nose. When Danny was at a safe distance again, Steve cleared his throat. "I suppose you'll want to get those filed."

Shaking his head as if he could see right through Steve, Danny took a few steps toward the door. "You," Danny said, pointing a finger at Steve, "should get on the phone."

"Phone?"

"Phone. You have a scratch to get fixed on my car."

"Right. I'll get it fixed."

The laugh Danny gave in response was almost unflattering to Steve's ability to keep his word. "You'd better," Danny said, "because your couch? Not so comfy. And I won't be the one sleeping on it."

"I have spare rooms," Steve said, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin. He knew better than to think Danny would banish him--if only because Steve knew how far he could go before Danny would, and if he was ever going to push that, it wouldn't be over a scratch on a car.

"A bed would not be enough punishment," Danny said, not having any success at hiding his own amusement. "Get it fixed."

When Danny was gone, Steve took a deep breath, trying to ignore the lingering scent of Danny's aftershave.  Mind on the case, he told himself, reaching for the mail pile to look at the article again, but it was no longer on top of the pile.

He'd gone through the mail three times before he gave up, sinking back into his chair, eyes closed. Danny had clearly walked out with it, and judging by the close, quiet conversation he was having with Chin in the bullpen, it was too late to stop him from doing anything with it.

Maybe it was for the best. Once Danny found out there was nothing behind it, he'd drop it, and that would be that.

***

Three days later, it had been quiet just long enough that Steve was prepared for all hell to break loose at any time. He was not, however, prepared to walk in late in the afternoon, after spending most of the day getting the Camaro fixed, to find two people, clearly FBI agents, standing in his bullpen with Danny, Chin and Kono.

"New case?" he asked, looking at Danny.

"Sort of," Danny said, scratching his nose, avoiding meeting Steve's eyes directly, which sent off every warning bell in Steve's head.

"Commander," one of the agents, a tall woman with blonde hair down past her shoulders, said, "I'm Samantha Waters, from the FBI's Violent Crimes Task Force in Atlanta." She held out a hand, and Steve shook it automatically. "This is my colleague," she said, waving a hand at the dark-haired man beside her, "John Grant."

Steve shook Grant's hand. "So what does the VCTF want in Hawaii?" Steve asked. "Is there a new serial killer on the loose that we don't know about?"

"We think the next target of a serial killer we've been tracking may be here," Waters said.

"Who's the target?"

Waters glanced at Danny before meeting Steve's gaze, her blue eyes sympathetic, but unwavering, as she said, "You."

Steve glared at Danny. "My office. Right now."

He turned on his heel, not waiting to see if Danny followed, but he didn't need to worry. He'd barely made it through the door of his office before Danny was right there behind him. Steve whirled around to face Danny. "Seriously?" Steve asked. "One newspaper article and you--"

"It wasn't one," Danny said, "it was four. And if you'd bothered to check instead of ignoring it, you'd know that it matches an MO leading to a string of murders."

Steve blinked. Hard. "A few newspaper articles in the mail is an MO?"

"It is for this guy."

"So you just called up the VCTF? We do solve crimes here, Danny."

"I didn't call anybody!" Danny leaned in, lowering his voice, but losing none of his steam. "Chin did the search and found the matches. We'd barely even had a chance to look into it when those two showed up. Apparently the search threw up a red flag in their system as a possible lead on the guy. They've been on his case for six months, since the second murder, and this is the first solid lead they've had, so they flew in as soon as they heard."

Steve took a deep breath. "Without even calling to check?"

"One of their agents emailed Chin yesterday to ask if all the news articles were related to a case, and Chin said yes, but it was just something we were looking into, that no crime had been committed. That was it."

"And you didn't think," Steve said, all attempts at deep breathing gone, "that was a good time to let me in on the fact that you were snooping around on this behind my _back_?"

"He didn't even mention it until this morning, after you were gone," Danny replied, his voice low and fierce, throwing a look towards the windows where Steve had no doubt the FBI agents were watching with interest. "What was I supposed to do, call and tell you? I didn't know it couldn't wait."

"You're supposed to work _with_ me," Steve said in clipped tones, arms tight across his chest, "not behind my back."

Danny's nostrils flared before he took a step back, hands out, arms open wide. "You know what? I can't even--" His breath came out with something that sounded like a low growl behind it. "If you would cooperate once in a while," he said finally, his voice low as he stepped into Steve's personal space, "instead of insisting that you can handle _everything_ that comes up against you without any of us, then we wouldn't have to work behind your back. We could work _with_ you."

"I don't _cooperate_?"  Steve gripped his shirt under his arms. "I seem to remember us all working as a team to take down Wo Fat."

"Oh, right, and how many months did it take to get you to really let us in?" Danny said with a harsh laugh, his hands flying through the air as he talked. "How many times did you lock up your dad's evidence when I came into the house while you doled out little tiny pieces of information as if they were diamonds? If your own sister hadn't forced her way into it, would you have ever included any of us?"

"Leave Mary out of this," Steve hissed.

"Right, because if you had your way, we'd all be left out of it and you'd, what, go chase the guy down with a pen knife? Because going off on your own worked _so_ well with the Governor, didn't it?

Steve forced himself not to flinch, even if somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice was telling him Danny had a point. "You're the one," he ground out, ignoring the voice, "who ran off to take care of other things that night."

He knew he'd gone too far when Danny stilled completely. "Other things?" Danny said, taking a step back. "If you mean Rachel, just come out and say it, Steven. No point in talking in code--unless, of course, you're so used to it that you don't know any other way to have a conversation."

Fuck. "Danny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just..." Steve glanced over his shoulder, and yes, as he thought, the FBI was looking on with interest, despite Chin and Kono's obvious attempts to pull them into a conversation. "I walk in here and find out the FBI thinks I'm being hunted by a serial killer. The FBI. There's no rule book for how to react to that."

Danny took a deep breath, and Steve watched carefully, waiting until he saw that slight softening in Danny's eyes that let him know he was mostly off the hook. "I know, babe," Danny said, stepping closer again, one hand on Steve's arm. "I know. And you need to go cooperate with them so we can find this guy before he makes a move on you."

"What can they do that we can't?"

"You mean besides provide six months of background on the killer and all the other murders. Oh, and then there's the fact that the woman standing out there happens to be the best profiler the FBI has ever seen? I mean, do you even know what she's done in her career? Seriously, she's like _the_ rock star of profiling."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Does she know you run her fan club?"

"Shut up. She's good, okay? And a lot of her cases were on the east coast. It's hard not to know who she is." Danny squeezed Steve's arm before dropping his hand back to his side, and Steve felt the loss of that warmth. "You want her on this, trust me."

"Okay," Steve said after a moment. "I'll try to play nice."

"Good."

Steve pushed past Danny, only to be caught on the arm by Danny's hand once more. "Just so we're clear, that other conversation isn't over. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Steve said, nodding without looking back. "I know." He'd hoped maybe he might get a pass, just this once, but he knew better, deep down. Danny wasn't one to just let things go.

"Then let's go find a serial killer," Danny said, releasing Steve's arm and giving him a little push toward the door.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Sam watched the two men walk back into the room, keeping her face perfectly composed. Watching their argument had been illuminating--she hadn't learned anything new about the case, but she'd learned more about the two of them in those few minutes than she had in the thick folder of background information she'd read on the flight to Hawaii.

Her job was to know the victim; apparently Danny Williams was the last piece of the puzzle to knowing Steve McGarrett.

"Sorry," McGarrett said, glancing at Williams before facing Sam with a smile. "We had a...thing to talk about first. So, Danny tells me you know a lot about this guy you think is sending the articles to me?"

Sam nodded. "Look, Commander, we're--"

"Please, if we're going to work together, it's Steve."

She saw the glance he gave Williams, and had to work to hide her smile. Going all out for approval--good to know. If he wasn't hiding behind his rank, it was one less barrier she'd have to cut through. "Steve, we're not trying to step on any toes, and we're happy to work with you as much as we can, but as I told Detective Williams, we need to take the lead. Is that going to be a problem?"

Steve shrugged. "It was your case first."

Sam didn't need the cynical look Williams shot at Steve to know better than to think that was really Steve's attitude, or at least it wouldn't be when push came to shove. She'd definitely have to make friends with Williams--he would be the key to controlling Steve if it came down to it. "Good, then, why don't we tell you what we know?"

She glanced at John, who stepped forward with the folders George had given them before they'd left Atlanta. "This is all of the background information we have," John said, handing a copy to each of the Five-0 team. "Our unsub has killed three men that we know of, all Navy SEALs, one in Arkansas, one in Iowa and one in California. Each man received four newspaper articles before his death."

"Wait," Steve said, "he sent them articles on other kills? Doesn't that make more than four?"

"Previous victims got more articles about past missions," John said. "The first one, Lieutenant Owen Ames, got nothing but articles on missions that he'd been part of, which the unsub shouldn't have known, but he did."

"Unless he was on Ames' team," Kelly said, looking at papers in his copy of the folder.

Sam shook her head. "We looked at the other team members pretty hard, but it didn't fit. And there was no connection with the other murders."

"Once Ames was murdered in Arkansas," John continued, "our unsub moved on to Iowa and Lieutenant Charles Michaels, who received three articles on his past missions and one on Ames. Then in California, Lieutenant Alan Sharp received two mission articles, one on the murder of Ames and one on the murder of Michaels."

"As I understand it, Steve," Sam said, watching closely for his reaction, "you received one on a mission, then one on each of the victims?"

Steve nodded, eyes on the folder open in front of him. "How long after the victims got the last article did the killer make his move?"

"All of them were killed within ten days of the last article," Sam replied. "He's patient. He waits until he can kill them how he wants. The symbolism of the kill is the most important thing to him; he won't want to give that up unless he gets desperate."

"It's been three days," Steve said. "So we have time."

"Not necessarily." Sam took a few steps toward him until he looked up at her. "Michaels was killed three days after he got his last article. It was seven days for Sharp and ten for Ames. He probably even enjoys dragging it out, lengthening the hunt and the anticipation. The length of time isn't important to him; it's the method."

"What is it about the method then?" Williams asked. "I mean, all three guys were killed different ways, right?"

Sam nodded. "We looked into any possible connection between them, but they were all in different teams, hadn't worked together, and they all were in different, though close, classes at Coronado. The only common ground we found in their classes were instructors and staff, who all alibied out easily. However, while looking into that, we found that they were all killed in a manner that spoke to their greatest talent in class. Ames was the best shot in his class, and he was shot with a sniper rifle. Michaels excelled at explosives, and his car was blown up. And Sharp was consistently the best runner in his class, and he was run over while jogging."

"So great," Williams said to Steve, "not only do we have to get you a protective detail, we have to keep you out of the water."

"I take it you excelled at swimming?" Sam asked, even though she'd already seen that information in his file.

"He was born with gills," Williams muttered. "He just hides them under all that muscle."

Steve gave him a look that was half annoyance, half fondness. "Just because you can't swim--"

"I can swim," Williams said, and Sam got the feeling this was a familiar argument, which was confirmed by the look the other two team members exchanged. "And that's not really the point we're discussing at the moment."

"I don't need a protective detail," Steve said.

"Steven."

Sam watched the long look between them, a silent conversation that Williams apparently won, judging by the way Steve's shoulders slumped, even as he rolled his eyes a little. "Fine. But it's our team only," he said to Williams before looking at Kelly, then Sam and John. "Is that a problem?"

"We want local FBI to be in on the security set up and perimeter watch," Sam said. "They know what they're looking for from this guy. But if you want to rotate your team at point, that's fine." She had a feeling his team would have far better luck controlling him, so if that helped, all the better.

"If that's decided," John said, looking at Sam, "I'm going to coordinate with the locals. Meet you at the house?"

Sam nodded, giving John a smile as he left. "So, if we could just head over to the house--"

"Wait a minute," Steve said, as if he'd just caught up, "the house? As in _my_ house?"

"You usually swim there, right?" Sam asked.

Steve nodded. "But that doesn't mean he's going to come after me there."

"It's the most likely place," Sam said, "and unlike your headquarters, which is crawling with police and cameras and doesn't have anywhere for you to swim, it's more remote and there's an ocean. We need teams there 24/7, even when you're not-- _especially_ when you're not--so we don't give him a chance to get set up."

After a moment--and a nudge Sam was sure Williams hadn't meant for anyone else to notice--Steve nodded again. "Fine. Just--I get to approve the arrangements at my house."

"We'll include you and your team in the arrangements," Sam said, "but if we deem something necessary, it's our case, remember?"

"But--" This time Williams' nudge was more of a kick, and impossible to miss. "Fine," Steve said at last, giving Williams a look that made Sam hope she wasn't inside the house when they had whatever discussion followed later.

"Great, then let's go have a look at the house while we wait for the local agents."

***

Steve stifled the urge to jump inside and lock the door to keep the FBI from invading his home. Okay, so maybe they weren't actually invading, just trying to protect him, but it still felt like an invasion.

Danny's arm brushed against his, lingering a little too long to be an accident, before Danny took a step away, and it made Steve consciously relax his shoulders. He reminded himself they were here to help.

Maybe if he repeated that enough times, he'd actually remember it.

He watched Grant walking through the house with a couple of agents whose names Steve had promptly forgotten. They took a quick, quiet tour of the doors and windows before stepping outside, leaving Steve and Danny alone with Sam.

"Sorry," she said quietly, watching him in a way that made him feel like he was a lab specimen. "I know it's frustrating, having the FBI crawling all over your house and losing your privacy, but I promise they'll be as unobtrusive as possible."

"Sure," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. It was easy to be understanding when your life wasn't being ground to a halt while the FBI watched you 24/7.

Her smile was so understanding it was unnerving. "Believe me, I do know."

"Right, because that's your job, isn't it? Empathy?"

The smack on the arm from Danny didn't make him feel guilty for his tone, but her tight smile, followed with, "That, and several years in an FBI-guarded house with a serial killer stalking me gives me an idea," did. She turned toward the door. "I'll just go check on their progress," she added as she walked out.

"So were you born an ass," Danny said, shaking his head as Steve turned to face him, "or did you have to practice?"

"What?" Steve asked. "How was I supposed to know about that?"

"I forget you didn't come up through the ranks as a cop," Danny said. "She's famous for more than just her profiling skills."

Steve folded his arms over his chest. "Thanks for the reminder that I'm not a real cop."

"Oh for--that's not what I meant," Danny said, and Steve couldn't tell if Danny's irritation was aimed at himself or Steve. "I actually do sometimes forget that you weren't always a cop."

And really, that shouldn't have put a nice warmth in Steve's stomach. But it did. "So it was a compliment?" he asked, hands dropping to his sides as he inched a little closer to Danny.

"Something like that," Danny said, his smile matching the one Steve knew he was wearing on his own face.

Steve cleared his throat. "So, what's her story?"

"I'm assuming you didn't spend all your years in the Navy under a rock--though I have no doubt some of them you probably did. So do you remember the serial killer Jack of all Trades?"

"I think so," Steve said, thinking back. "Hard to track because he kept changing his MO, right?"

"Score one for the non-academy-trained cop," Danny said with a smile. "She was his...I don't know, obsession? Muse? Whatever. He fixated on her. Killed her husband. Stalked her for years before she caught him."

Steve frowned. "So she was being stalked by him but she got to run the case anyway?"

"She got to work on the case, while being protected by the FBI 24/7," Danny corrected. "Just like you."

"But I'm not a helpless profiler," Steve said. "I'm a fully-trained--"

"Navy SEAL killing machine, yeah, I get it. One who can be felled by a taser."

"Danny, that was--"

" _Twice_ , Steven!"

Steve huffed, glaring, but unable to argue, because he _had_ been taken down twice with a taser. Once in his own home. While armed. "Okay, fine," he said, turning away, walking over to the window to watch as Grant gestured to the same points Steve would have chosen to watch from while one of the other agents wrote on a clipboard. Satisfied for the moment, he turned back to Danny. "I don't like feeling like a target," he admitted.

"Nobody does," Danny said, crossing the room to lay a hand on Steve's arm. "But he'll make his move soon enough and we'll get him and you can go back to being your normal badass self."

"You think I'm a badass?" Steve asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, you think you're one, and I'm not in the mood to argue."

Yet, Steve thought, remembering the discussion they'd left earlier in his office. "Danny, I--"

The door opened, Sam, Grant and the other agents traipsing back in. "We're all set," Grant said to Steve. "Agents Kowalski and Brown will be on the first shift." He handed Steve a folder "That has a schedule with the names and pictures of all the agents to make sure you get the right ones, as well as a list of contact numbers, and ours are at the top. If anything seems off, and we're not here, you contact us. Got it?"

Steve nodded, wondering if Grant had been on Sam's protection team. He certainly had the whole thing down perfectly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Grant turned to Sam. "We should go check in, go over any new info George might have."

She nodded. "We can meet you both at your office in the morning. If anything comes up, or if you see anything odd--"

"Let you know, yes, we know," Steve said.

"Sorry," Sam said, giving him a faint smile. "Look, however tempting it may be, stay out of the water. It's normal to want to try to not give in, or even to want to lure him out, but you're the best chance we've had so far to stop this guy before he kills more people. It's not just your life you're risking; it's all the SEALs he'd kill after if we lose this chance."

Damn she was good. He'd actually been thinking that the quickest way to end this was to go swimming, but he nodded reluctantly at the reminder he'd put others in danger. "I know. I'll behave." He glared at Danny when he snickered before looking back at Sam.

"Good. See you tomorrow."

They left, and Steve stared out the window after they'd driven off, watching for the faint movement of the other agents watching outside before turning back to face Danny. "I suppose going out for dinner is a bad idea?"

"You know it is," Danny said, joining him by the window. "At least for now."

"Fine," Steve said, "but you're cooking."

***

"I know, Chlo," Sam said into her cell phone, "but that's why they call them liberal arts colleges. Because you get a well-rounded degree." Sam grinned at John, watching as he carefully put her clothes away next to his in the closet. It was their own little ritual, started when they'd moved in together in a new place, and carried out in every hotel they'd stayed in since.

Her daughter was finally winding up her long complaint about having to take art history when she was majoring in forensic science. "Look at it this way," Sam said, "you can look at blood spatter and try to decide which impressionist painter it reminds you of."

"You're hilarious, Mom," Chloe said, but she was laughing now. "And you've been talking to Grace, haven't you?"

"Not about this. Why?"

"Because she said the exact same thing."

"Well, maybe we know something you don't."

Chloe huffed. "About crime scenes? Probably. For now. I haven't finished school yet."

"Yes, and you won't if you don't write your art history paper."

"Fine. Give John my love."

"I will. We love you."

"Love you, too. Night!"

The call ended, and Sam put the phone down on the nightstand. "Chloe sends her love," Sam said, stepping into John's arms and leaning up for a kiss.

"Still railing against The Man for forcing her to take art history?" he asked with an amused look.

"Every day. I think if she put half the energy into that class that she did into hating it, she'd get an A."

"And more sleep."

Sam laughed. "She's in college. Not much chance of that." She stepped back, pulling off her suit jacket. "Did George have anything new?"

"He said he was sending all the computer files to Kelly, so they should be there in the morning for us to start looking at, see if McGarrett might spot something we didn't." John raised an eyebrow at her. "So what do you think of those two anyway?"

"McGarrett and Williams?" At John's nod, Sam shrugged, thinking about what she'd read in their files and adding in what she'd read in their bodies and faces. "Dedicated, committed--"

"To their job or each other?" John joked.

Sam laughed. "Both. And you keep this up, you're not going to need me to profile anyone anymore."

"I'll always need you," he said softly, then cleared his throat. "So, dedicated and committed. What else?"

She took a deep breath, sitting down on the bed to kick off her shoes. "New relationship," she said after a moment. "Williams is too comfortable in the house not to be spending all his time there but his address on file is still somewhere else."

"Just keeping up appearances, maybe?" John asked.

"No, I think it's more than that. The stuff in the files about Steve breaking out of jail and the two of them going on the run a couple of months ago…I think they've probably been together since around then, if I had to guess." She frowned. "Were any of the victims gay or bi?" she asked, looking around for the files.

"Not that anyone mentioned," John said. "Two had girlfriends, one had an ex-wife."

"Williams has an ex-wife and a daughter," Sam said, flipping through a file. "That doesn't mean they weren't bi."

John sat down beside her, looking over her shoulder at the file. "You think maybe our guy is killing closeted SEALs?"

She shrugged again. "Maybe. It's possible he sees anyone doing something he deems 'unnatural' as being undeserving of being a SEAL and he's just targeting the best ones first. I don't know. It doesn't feel like that, though. It's too impersonal. There's no strong show of contempt." She put the file aside. "Still, we should dig a little deeper and see if there were any signs that the others might have been gay or bi."

"We can have George do some computer digging in the morning, and if we need to, send the locals out in each of their hometowns to question some friends and family."

"Only if we think it's warranted. I don't want to make things harder for the families by potentially starting rumors about the victims if I don't have to."

"That makes two of us."

Sam rolled her head around a little, trying to work the tension out of her neck and shoulders. "I'm getting too old for 12 hour flights," she said with a self-deprecating grin.

"You're not old," John said instantly, as his hands began to work at the muscles of her shoulders.

"Older than you," she said with a laugh at the familiar argument.

"Oh, right, I forgot, you went to school with my grandmother, right?"

"Hey!"

He placed a kiss on her neck. "You started it."

"Yeah, but for that comment, you owe me dinner." Her stomach rumbled in agreement. "And soon."

"Room service or restaurant?"

"The hotel restaurant looked nice. And it's probably faster than room service." She got up, stepping back into her shoes before pulling him to his feet. "Let's go."

***


	3. Chapter 3

Steve cleared away the dishes when they were done with dinner, trying to ignore the way Danny was watching him from the kitchen table. He knew Danny was waiting to finish the conversation they'd started at HQ, and he also knew that lingering over the last of the dishes to prolong the agony wasn't helping either of them.

It didn't stop him from doing it, but he knew.

He finally had the last dish done and looked around the kitchen, finding nothing else he could do to put off the talk. "Outside?" Steve asked, grabbing a couple of Longboards from the refrigerator.

"Bad idea," Danny said, and Steve clenched his teeth as he realized even sitting by the ocean was apparently lost to him for the time being.

He tried to ignore the annoyance, walking through to the living room, feeling Danny close behind. Steve sat down on the couch, taking a long pull off his beer and looking up at Danny expectantly.

"Will you stop looking at me like I'm a firing squad?" Danny said after a moment, dropping onto the couch beside him.

"At least I'm not looking at you like you're a serial killer?" At Danny's look, Steve sunk back into the couch, eyes closed. "Sorry, bad joke, I know."

"Look," Danny said, "I know you've got a lot to deal with, but we need to talk."

Steve felt the couch dip beside him, Danny's warmth just close enough that if Steve leaned a little to his right he could touch. _Can't it wait?_ was stuck in his throat. He wanted to touch, to feel, to lose himself completely for a while right now, not talk. But. He knew Danny. "I know," Steve said instead.

"This case," Danny said, and Steve could hear in the pauses that Danny was choosing his words very carefully, "I know it's about you. But you can't lock yourself down. You know that, right?"

Steve turned his head toward Danny, opening his eyes. "I thought that was the idea, that I was under FBI-ordered lock down."

"No, I don't mean physically, I mean--" Danny ran a hand through his hair. "You know how profilers work? She's going to crawl all over your life until she figures out what it is about you that made this guy choose you."

"Okay," Steve said slowly, wondering where this was going. "And?"

"And you have to let her. If she asks you who your first crush was, you tell her. If she asks who your first kiss was, you cough up a name."

Steve frowned. "What difference does it make who I liked and who I made out with?"

"I don't know, maybe no difference. Or maybe you kissed the girl this guy liked when you were 12 and he's just getting around to knocking off the people who pissed him off in his life."

"Fine," Steve said. "So I should tell her anything she asks?"

"Anything."

"And if she asks who I'm sleeping with now?"

There was a slight pause. "Then you tell her."

"Yeah, not so easy to jump at offering up all the intimate details when it involves _your_ life, is it?" Steve asked.

"I don't care that she knows. I was just surprised you thought I would. Why would I care? When have I looked like I cared?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about when Grace is around? You certainly looked uncomfortable enough last weekend when she came into the kitchen while we were kissing."

Danny leaned back into the corner of the couch, tucking his hands under his arms and somehow managing to look down his nose at Steve, despite Steve being taller, even seated. "My daughter is nine, Steven. I can't help it if I get a little embarrassed if she walks in on me kissing my new boyfriend."

"Right, because she might figure out what's going on with us and tell Rachel?"

"Tell Rach--what? I mean, seriously, how many times have you been knocked unconscious? Because there is seriously something wrong in your head. _Seriously_ wrong!"

"And are you _seriously_ going to tell me that you don't care if Rachel knows about us?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, that is _exactly_ what I’m going to tell you!" Danny exploded off the couch, pacing in front of the coffee table a few times before turning to loom over Steve. "Rachel knows," Danny said. "She knew before I did; hell, I think she knew before she asked me to leave Hawaii. She knew how I felt, and she knows about us, because I told her."

Steve blinked at him a few times. "You told Rachel?"

"Yes, you dumbass, I told Rachel. You think I'm going to keep something like this from the mother of my child so she can get pissed off and try to use it against me if she ever feels like threatening to take Grace away from me again? Since you seem to be clueless about me, I'll answer that for you: No. _I'm_ not stupid."

"You told Rachel."

"Yes, Steven, as we have established, I told Rachel." Danny shifted his weight to one foot, hands on his hips. "And while we're on the subject, I told Grace, too. Well, the nine-year-old version of the story, anyway, but I wasn't about to start spending all my time here day and night without explaining it to her."

Steve tried to process that. "What did she say?" he asked after a moment.

"Who, Rachel or Grace?"

"Yes."

Danny rolled his eyes. "'Do you think I'm an idiot?' and 'Duh.'"

"Which one said which?" Steve asked, something in his chest starting to ease when Danny's shoulders relaxed a little.

"You are a goof," Danny said, dropping back down onto the couch again.

"So you keep telling me."

Danny reached out, taking Steve's hand in his, lacing their fingers together on Steve's thigh. "Are you gonna be okay with this?"

"What choice do I have?" At Danny's look, Steve nodded. "I'll adapt. It's what I'm trained to do."

"Yeah, but you're trained to do it while in charge."

"Even _I_ had bosses in the Navy, Danny."

Danny's eyes widened, a mocking grin tugging at his mouth. "Really? That I would have liked to see, someone actually ordering you to do something."

"I wasn't born a Lieutenant Commander."

"Could've fooled me."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Steve smiled. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, leaning in to capture Danny's lips with his own.

***

"Sharp looks familiar," Steve said. Sam watched him squint at the screen. "Was he in 224 or 226, maybe?"

Sam checked the file, but before she could find it, Chin had the information up on the computer table. "226," he said, unnecessarily, as with a swipe of his hand, Sharp's record was on one of the overhead monitors.

"It's like we brought George with us," John murmured in Sam's ear, and she put her hand in front of her mouth to hide her smile. She couldn't imagine anyone less like their own computer genius than Chin Ho Kelly, but he certainly had similar skills.

"So you probably saw him around Coronado," Sam said.

"Probably," Steve said, not sounding completely sure.

Sam glanced at John, who gave her his, 'You know you have to,' look, before she turned back to Steve. "While you were at Coronado," she asked slowly, choosing her words with care, "did you… _meet_ anyone?"

The space between Steve's eyebrows became almost nonexistent as he frowned at her. "I met a lot of people."

"She means did you _sleep_ with anyone," Danny said, giving Sam a dark look that matched the dark note in his voice. They'd abandoned last names as soon as they'd started working that morning, though Sam thought she might be back to formality if she didn't tread carefully with this line of questioning. "Like Sharp."

"Uh…no," Steve said, turning pink to the tips of his ears, but never dropping Sam's gaze. "BUD/s is the most intense thing you could imagine--'meeting' someone would just waste energy you need to make it to graduation. And 'meeting' someone like Sharp would've likely cost me graduation and my job. So the answer to any question of that sort is no."

She saw the smile Danny quickly hid behind Steve's shoulder, and didn't bother to hide her own. "Sorry," she said quietly, "we have to explore every possibility if we're going to figure out why he's targeting the people he's targeting."

"I know," Steve said, and she couldn’t miss the way he sat up a little straighter. "Ask whatever you need to ask."

Turning a blind eye to the way Danny's hand was resting casually on Steve's thigh, Sam looked at Sharp's face on the computer screen for a moment before turning to Chin and Kono, standing close to each other. They'd moved closer to Steve and Danny, as if they were just waiting to put themselves in front of them to protect them. "Can you put all three victims up on the screens, please?"

Chin moved forward to the computer table, while Kono put her hands on her hips and gave Sam a challenging look. Sam shot one quick glance at John, before saying, "Thank you," to Chin and turning her attention to the screens. "Neither of the others look familiar?" she asked Steve.

"No." He shook his head for emphasis. "I mean, the other two might've been in my class at the start and either rolled or dropped--most of the class does. What class did they graduate with?"

Chin tapped a few buttons on the screen as Kono stepped up beside him. "Michaels was in 232, Ames was in 229," Chin said, while Kono did some tapping of her own.

"Ames was rolled for medical out of 228 in the first week, which is how he ended up with 229," Kono said. "Michaels was in 232 from start to finish."

Sam frowned at them. "Rolled? What is that?"

"The majority of the guys who start BUD/s don't make it through the entire class," Steve said. "Most drop, but some roll over into later classes for medical or academic reasons."

"And if they drop, can they still come back?"

"Yeah, they can try again. There was a guy who graduated with me who'd dropped twice before he made it through my class."

Sam looked at John and could tell they were on the same page. "So our unsub could actually have been in class with all four of you at some point, even if only for a short time," John said.

"We looked at the names of everyone who was in the classes to see if there was any overlap," Sam said.

"That doesn't mean he didn't change his name," John replied. "Maybe even his info?" He was already pulling out his cell phone. "I'll call George."

"We can compare the information here," Chin said, starting to tap on the table again.

Sam shook her head. "Let George do it--he's more familiar with the enrollment lists and databases we've been combing for months," she explained, not wanting him to think she didn't trust his abilities. "I'd rather us focus on people Steve might have had interaction with."

"You think this guy might have been in Steve's class at some point?" Danny asked.

"It's possible. Actually, it's likely--we've been coming back to that theory again and again over the course of the investigation, but the data didn't support it. But if he has access to information on the missions these guys have been on…."

Sam looked over her shoulder at John, who was talking quietly with George. "Ask him to check for any inconsistencies in the database," she said. "See if anything might have been altered or erased to hide the identity of someone who was in the classes," she added, waiting for his nod before turning back to the others.

"If he has that kind of level of access to Navy records," Steve said slowly, "then either he's one hell of a hacker…"

"Or he's still in the Navy," Danny finished for him.

Sam looked back at John again. "Also have George check on anyone in the Navy whose leave or assignments might have corresponded with all the murders."

"He might not be the one making the changes, though," Kono said. "He might just have a partner who does it for him."

"Maybe," Sam said, frowning at the computer table as she considered the idea. "It would be unlikely for him to have a partner--he's too egotistical. But it's possible he would have someone who idolizes him who might be doing the work for him. Either way, tracking whether or not the information has been changed is our best lead."

John hung up his phone and rejoined them. "George says it may take a while to find any traces of changes in the database," he said, eyes on Sam. "He said he'd try a few other searches that might yield something in the meantime, but changes like that can take a while to discover, if they can even be discovered."

Steve's large sigh drew Sam's attention. "I say we draw the guy out," he said. Sam noticed he was deliberately not looking at Danny as he said it, much to Danny's obvious annoyance.  "If we're careful, and we cover all our bases, all it would take is for me to go swimming and we could have him. What do we have to lose?"

"You, for starters," Danny said, backhanding Steve on the bicep.

"I'm used to being in the line of fire," Steve said, finally meeting Danny's eyes.

"There's putting yourself in the line of fire," Danny replied, his hands emphasizing every word, "and then there's jumping on a grenade when there's no one else around and nothing to gain."

She could see Steve biting back his words before he shoved himself off his chair and stalked off to his office. It took less than two seconds for Danny to follow him, and what he lacked in leg span he made up for in angry speed.

Kono cleared her throat. "I think we should get lunch. They could be a while."

Sam nodded at her with a faint smile, trying not to look into Steve's office. He'd already had enough of his privacy stripped away.

***

"Are you _literally_ insane?" Danny asked as soon as the door to Steve's office had closed behind him.

"Not according to the US Navy, no," Steve said, moving to stand behind his desk. He wasn't sitting down and losing his height advantage, not until Danny had run out of steam.

Danny covered his face with both palms for a moment before throwing his hands out wide. "That doesn't count. The Navy only recruits insane people, because only _insane_ people would put themselves on the line like that."

"You put yourself on the line every day."

"It's not the same thing."

"How is it different, Danny?" Steve moved out from behind the desk, crossing to stand closer to Danny. "Put yourself in my shoes. You'd want to do the same thing and you know it."

Danny glared up at him for a moment. "I'd want to, but that doesn't mean I would. Because you would stop me."

Steve eyed him levelly for a long moment. "No. I wouldn't," he said quietly. "I'd help you do it safely." He'd tried for months not to let himself wonder what would've happened if Danny had been with him the night the Governor was shot, if Danny had either talked him off the ledge or gone as back up. There was no point in wondering, and he didn't want to lay that on Danny, not when he knew what had been at stake for him. But he needed that back up now more than ever.

He could tell Danny was trying to come up with an argument, but eventually he just sort of deflated. " _If_ ," he said finally, "we do this--and that is a _big_ 'if,' Steven, do you understand that? _Huge_. But _if_ we do this, you will _wait_ until we have a plan we all agree on, and you will do _everything_ you are told. To the letter." Danny put his hand on the back of Steve's neck, making sure he could see Steve's eyes. "Is that understood?"

Steve nodded solemnly, holding Danny's gaze. "Understood. And agreed."

"Good." Danny managed a small smile, his thumb caressing the back of Steve's neck. He doubted Danny even knew he was doing it, but it was making Steve want to drag him off to a room without so many windows. They'd barely had any time to get used to this thing between them since life had returned to what passed for normal for them, and he wanted more time alone.

Which was why he would do what Danny asked and take every precaution they wanted. He had every intention of sticking around until he got bored with Danny. And since he couldn't imagine that ever happening, then he planned to stick around as long as Danny would let him. He also had every intention of making good use of that time.

"I know that look," Danny said suddenly, letting go and taking a step back. He glanced over at the windows before he moved forward again, leaning up for a long kiss. "Later," he said.

Steve groaned, but he didn't protest when Danny pulled back once more. "We need to talk to them about this plan anyway."

"Let me do it."

"It's _my_ life."

"Exactly. Which is why they're going to instinctively say no, because everyone knows you. Even the FBI agents fresh off the plane from 5,000 miles away have your number. Let me talk to Sam first. If she's on board, no one else is going to argue."

Steve frowned. "What about John?"

"He'll do whatever she says."

"Are you sure?"

"Seriously, you are completely clueless sometimes, aren't you?" Danny said with a laugh. "Trust me. He will."

"Okay."

"Okay. Then let's go see what we can do."

***


	4. Chapter 4

Sam watched the two of them walk back into the room. Steve looked happier, but Danny didn't look quite as happy, though he was clearly trying to hide it.

"Lunch will be here in a few minutes," Kono told them. "We ordered your usual."

"Thanks," Steve said, dropping back into the office chair he'd been fidgeting in all morning. Instead of taking the seat close beside him, though, Danny walked over to Sam. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked quietly.

"Sure." She hesitated, glancing at John, but Danny shook his head.

"Just you."

"Okay." She gave John a look she knew he'd interpret as 'stay there' and followed Danny off to a different office she realized must be his, judging by the pictures of him and his daughter on the desk. "Everything okay?"

Danny sighed, perching himself on the corner of his desk. "Steve is determined to go out there and lure this guy in."

"You want me to talk to him?"

"No. I want you to help him. I want all of us to help him."

Sam studied him closely for several seconds. "Look, I know we don't know each other that well, so maybe I'm a little off, but until now I would have said with complete certainty that you would rather lock him up than let him go out and play bait."

"You can remain confident of your profiling skills, then," Danny said with a faint smile, "because you're right." He shifted, putting more of his weight on the desk, as if to rest his right knee. "But see, here's the thing about partners: You don't always get to do what you want. Especially not if what you want is illogical and totally based in fear."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that his work partner talking, or his partner after work?"

He didn't look surprised or worried that she'd brought it up. "His partner after work would like to lock him up. But his work partner has learned the hard way that you don't say no when he's set on doing something. You help him, or things get worse."

Sam considered her next words carefully before deciding to go for it. "Is that how the two of you ended up on the run from the police?"

"Something like that, yeah." His eyes softened. "Not that it didn't turn out for the best for everyone in the end," he added quietly. "Anyway," he said, all business again, "he's determined. And we all know that this may be our only move."

"George is looking for inconsistencies in the--"

"Yeah, and he told you that he didn't know how long it was going to take, and there's no guarantee that he's going to find anything, either. How long do you think we can sit around waiting for this guy to make his move?"

Sam mentally ran over what she knew about the killer. "Realistically, I think he could easily go a couple of weeks waiting for the right situation. Maybe longer."

"Well, I can promise you that Steve McGarrett won't last being this restricted for that long. Not after everything that's happened the last few months. He'll go off first chance he has and try to lure the guy out anyway. This way, we secure the area, we have lookouts, I'm there with him as backup…it's the only chance he has of not getting killed by going off to do it himself."

She didn't like it. Never mind that she liked Steve just from what she knew of him and didn't want to see him dead; she also couldn't stomach watching the best lead they had die. Literally. "I don't know."

"I studied your case, you know," Danny said suddenly, throwing her for a loop. "How many times did you or someone on your team put yourselves out there trying to lure Jack of all Trades in?

She swallowed, images of John tied to a chair sticking in her mind before she could fully brush them away.  "Then you know why I'm reluctant to do it."

"And if you hadn't done it then, you might still be hiding away from him."

He was right. She hated it, but he was right. "Is there an indoor pool where we could control the situation better?"

"I know a place, and I don't think we'd have any trouble getting it secured so it's just us."

She sighed. "Okay. But we wait until tomorrow to see if George comes up with anything first."

Danny nodded, sliding off the desk. "That will give us time to make sure the pool is secure, too."

"Good."

He paused in front of her. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. He's taking a huge risk. You both are."

"I don't think a day's gone by that I haven't taken a huge risk since I met Steve McGarrett," Danny said, sounding more amused than irritated by that fact. "Come on; let's go tell him the good news."

She followed him out of his office, lagging back a few steps to watch how Steve turned, tense and waiting, as Danny approached.

"Feel like taking a swim tomorrow?" Danny asked.

She immediately wondered if half the reason he pushed so hard to get her to agree was just to see the huge smile that broke out on Steve's face.

***

"It's too risky," John said the moment they were in their hotel room.

Sam had been preparing for this since Danny had announced they were going to use Steve as bait. She would have expected it sooner, but they hadn't been alone, and he would never question her like that in front of others, not on a case.

She turned and smiled at him, laying a hand on his arm. "It's done," she said. "We have to stick to the plan."

"But George--"

"Still might find something before morning. You know he's not sleeping tonight, not with this to work on."

"So then we give George a couple of days."

Sam was already shaking her head before he'd finished his sentence. "I would think you, of all people, would understand how little time we have before Steve takes matters into his own hands. I mean, you gave me, what, three seconds warning before making yourself bait? And it wasn't even _your_ life on the line."

"That's different," John said, staring at Sam's hand, "it was _your_ life."

"Which means you also know Danny's going to help him, no matter what. And they stand a better chance if we're all on board." When he still looked uncertain, she moved her hand up to his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes. "John."

"I know," he said, leaning into her touch. "I know."

She smiled at the capitulation in his tone, leaning in for a kiss. "We have very few hours before we have to be back," Sam said against John's lips. "Are we done discussing the case?"

"Absolutely," John replied, pushing her toward the bed without another word.

***

Steve lay on his back in the dark, listening to Danny breathing, so loud in the silence. They'd gotten home and fallen into bed with Danny's, "Did you set the alarm clock?" the longest sentence between them. Steve had tried to read Danny's uncharacteristic silence, but it wasn't his usual angry quiet that quickly simmered and boiled over, like a shaking pot on a stove. It was more like he didn't even know what to say. Or maybe he was just waiting for Steve to say something.

"Thank you," Steve said softly, still staring at the ceiling.

"You're welcome." Danny's voice was rough and sleepy, and Steve's body reacted to it. "What, exactly, did I do?"

Steve's hand twitched against the sheet, wanting to reach out, but he gripped the sheet instead. "You went along with this idea, despite the fact that you'd rather handcuff me to my desk than let me do this."

"I was thinking more along the lines of locking you in interrogation," Danny said conversationally. "You'd be out of handcuffs before I could leave the building."

"I'd be out of interrogation before you could leave the building."

He felt Danny shift onto his side. "You could--never mind, I don't even want to know."

Smiling a little, Steve turned onto his side to face Danny. "I know this is hard," Steve said, "but the longer we wait, the more time he'll have to prepare, and the higher the risk of him succeeding."

"You mean the risk of you dying. You can say the word, Steven, it's not like I don't know what 'his success/our failure' means. We've been talking in that code all day long, but it doesn't change the fact that it really means you'd be _dead_."

"You know," Steve said, slowly, looking for the right words, "I've gone on so many missions I've lost count, and I was never afraid of death."

"Yes, _please_ remind me of how you're not afraid to jump in front of a speeding bullet. That's so helpful. Thank you."

Steve shook his head, his hand letting go of the sheet to move to Danny's shoulder. "I wasn't afraid of death, because service was all I had. If I went out and didn't come back, I'd done my job, and that was all I cared about."

His hand moved to Danny's neck. "It's not all I have anymore. I have family here, and friends, and a team…and I have you." He held Danny's gaze, just barely making his eyes out in the moonlight. "So if you're thinking I'm going to take any unnecessary risks tomorrow, you're wrong," he said, the words coming much easier now. "Because after only recently discovering how much I love you, I'm not about to die before I can enjoy it."

Danny's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Oh," he said, after a moment.

"Oh?" Steve said, unable to tell from Danny's tone or his face how he was reacting, especially since the fact that he'd just told Danny he loved him was still slowly sinking into Steve's brain.

"I, uh…" Danny blinked.

"It's okay," Steve said quickly. "I'm not expecting you to--I mean, I know you only just got over Rachel, and--"

"Steven!"

Steve stopped for only the briefest of seconds. "Danny--"

"Ah-ah-ah! It is my turn to talk." Danny took a deep breath. "Why do you think I was so worried about you that I made Chin, Kono and the FBI help you on your little suicide mission rather than risk you going out on your own?"

"Well, to be fair, you're kind of a mother hen, and--"

"Stop talking. That was a rhetorical question, and also, you're _ruining_ my declaration here."

Steve felt a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and quickly subdued it. "Your declaration?" he said as seriously as he could manage when all he wanted was to grab Danny and kiss him.

"Yes. I _nag_ because I care. I _harass_ you because I worry. I let you drive my _car_ , and I hide from the _police_ with you, and now I _live_ in your house, all because I love you, and _seriously_ , I worry about your detecting skills if you haven't figured that out yet."

He couldn't hold the grin back any longer. "You know, only you could say you love me and malign me in the same sentence."

"Hey, it's not like you didn't know what you were getting into, babe, or who you were getting into it with."

"No," Steve said softly, his hand moving from Danny's neck to his cheek, thumb running over Danny's lips. "I knew exactly what I was getting into, and I'm not complaining."

He pulled Danny close for a kiss, wrapping his arms around him tightly as if he could keep them both in this moment forever.  He knew he couldn't, but he ignored reality in favor of the feel of Danny's skin, the taste of his mouth and the sound of his voice as he completely fell apart under Steve's hands.

Reality would hit soon enough.

***


	5. Chapter 5

The drive back to HQ was as silent as the drive home had been a handful of hours before, but the silence was less strained, which Steve counted as a win, considering the situation. They walked in to find Kono and Chin on the opposite side of the computer table from Sam and John, talking with a man with brown hair and an angular face, who Steve assumed was George, conferenced in on the video screen.

Judging by the uncomfortable pause in the conversation, Steve guessed he'd been the topic of conversation. "Any luck?" he asked, managing an only slightly-forced sounding lightness.

"George," Sam said, waving a hand at the man on the video screen, "has been searching, but--well, I'll let him explain it."

"There are usually inconsistencies in the structure of a database when changes have been made," George said. "Someone who doesn't entirely know what they're doing may manage to get into a system and change the data, but it's very difficult to actually override most systems and make it look as if the change was made earlier, so a quick look at an altered database often shows any changes just by sorting by date."

Steve nodded. "So you found something?"

"Not yet," George said. "We've looked at every change in the enrollment database during the time frame where the date of the change seemed off, but they've all been legitimate corrections and changes, nothing that seems to track back to the killer."

"So we have nothing?" Steve prompted, keeping his eyes on George and not looking anywhere near Danny.

"We're going through the enrollment lists now with backup lists, if they were available, to see if maybe one of the backups still has an old name, but…it takes a while. Computers can only do so much in this kind of search when the whole idea was to fool the computer in the first place, so it takes longer when we have to check everything the computer flags."

"How long could that take?" Steve asked.

George's eyes flickered off to the side--looking at Sam and John, Steve assumed, though the video screen made it appear as if he was looking at Chin and Kono. "If we have to go through all of it? A day. Maybe a little more. But we could come across something at any time. There's no way to know for sure."

"Then we stick with our plan," Steve said, looking around the room and daring anyone to challenge him. He'd done what they asked and waited, now it was their turn.

"Okay," Sam said finally, and Steve decided to ignore the glance she gave Danny before she said it. He could be magnanimous when he was about to get his way. "George, keep digging," Sam added, looking back at the screen. "Call us the second you find anything, and if we don't hear from you, we'll check back when we're done."

"Will do," George said. "Good luck."

Chin ended the video conference, the Hawaii state seal flashing for a moment before it was replaced by a detailed layout of the pool Danny had chosen for the op. They went over and over site lines and coverage, and where they had agents and cameras, and who was handling what, until Steve was ready to shove them all out the door so they could get this over with. He hated inaction when there was something he could do.

However, he couldn't help but be a little impressed at the thorough coverage they'd managed to put in place overnight. If the killer tried to enter the building, he'd be busted, and if he decided the pool itself was close enough and he didn't have to actually kill Steve in the water, the cameras and satellite imaging in use were likely to pick up any suspicious movement for miles.

He knew the one weakness was if the guy decided to shoot from inside a building instead of a rooftop. He would be harder for any of the imaging to spot, but it couldn't be helped, and Steve sure as hell wasn't about to point it out, especially since the chances of that causing a problem were minimal, given the location of the pool, and he would be covered and wearing a vest going in and out of the building.

"So what do you think he'll do?" Danny asked Sam when they'd finished going over the plan.

"I think he'll try to get inside," she said. "He's still inside his comfort zone as far as his timeline goes, and even though I'm sure he's figured out by now we're protecting you, he'll be confident he'll have another chance if he can't get in."

"You don't think having all the extra attention on Steve will scare him off?" Kono asked. "Make him find a new target?"

Sam shook her head. "He'll see it as a challenge. This guy gets off on taking out decorated SEALs. He's not going to back down at the sight of some FBI protection."

"Then let's go give him a target," Steve said.

He didn't miss Sam giving Danny another look, but he kept his mouth shut again as Danny stood up and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Come on, Rambo, you ride with me."

Steve's relief to be in the car was short-lived as it took forever to slowly move their different vehicles out in perfect coordination. It was also tempered by the fact that he was relegated to the passenger seat, tapping his fingers on the armrest in frustration. "Why can't I drive?" he asked for the fourth time.

"Because I know you," Danny said for the fourth time.

"That's not an answer."

Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve. "Because _you_ would want to take off and pull out in front of the lead car and lose _all_ the protection we so carefully set up for you, and we agreed that if we did this, you would do _everything_ we say, and _I_ say _your_ ass stays in the _passenger_ seat until we're at the pool. Is _that_ an answer?"

"Fine," Steve said. He'd like to think anyone on his team, let alone Danny, would know that he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize an operation, but then he might have given them cause to wonder recently, if it involved something personal, so he'd let it go. "You and Sam have become fast friends," he said.

"What?"

"Those looks between the two of you, that silent communication. What's up with that?"

Danny laughed. "You're not seriously jealous?"

"No, I'm not," Steve said, feeling the tips of his ears burn, ducking his head a little to hide the fact that they were most certainly pink. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Well, a normal person wouldn't be, but you're kind of…abnormal," Danny said. "So let me put your insane mind at rest, Steven. Even if I had the slightest bit of interest in her--which I do not--John Grant would shoot me in the face if I so much as looked at her that way. So you have nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worried."

He laughed again. "Right."

"I wasn't!" Steve slumped down in the seat a little. "But you didn't answer my question. What's with the looks?"

Danny breathed in slowly, paying far more attention to his driving than following a large SUV on a route he had memorized required. "She understands," he said after a moment, "what it's like to send someone you care about out to the wolves as bait."

"We've all gone out as bait at some point," Steve said.

"Not like this," Danny said quietly, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter than necessary. "This isn't just another criminal out to break the law." His voice had that husky tone that Steve associated with Matt's betrayal, or Rachel's custody threats, and Steve had to swallow against the tightness in his own throat. "This guy wants _you_ dead," Danny said. "You. Personally. He's come all the way here just to _end_ you. It's _not_ the same thing."

"Fair enough," Steve said, putting his hand on Danny's thigh and finishing the ride in silence.

***

By the time they were inside the natatorium, Steve was ready to jump in the pool clothes and all. He would've happily submitted to a swim with half the FBI watching, but when Sam and John didn't follow them through the last door, he couldn't stop the huge grin from splitting his face.

"Okay, Gypsy Rose Lee," Danny said, giving Steve's shoulder a little shove. "Get to the locker rooms before you start stripping. We may be alone, but there are security cameras in here and no one but me needs to see you naked."

Steve turned to face Danny, walking backward toward the locker rooms. "Cameras?"

"Yes. Video only, no audio--they were already in place and we were running short on time, so we used what they had. Honestly, did you pay attention to the hours we spent planning and going over this?"

"Yeah, I just…" Steve grinned and pointed at the pool. "I'm focused on swimming."

Danny shook his head. "Go. Get dressed. Or undressed, as the case may be."

Steve turned and ducked into the locker rooms, his shirt off before he'd gotten two steps into the room, dropping it with his bag by the nearest bench. He had to sit down to take off his shoes, which was when he noticed Danny was undressing as well. "You're swimming?" Steve asked, one shoe dropping to the floor from where he'd held it mid-air.

"I'm preparing," Danny said, "in case I need to go in the water. That doesn't mean I will."

"Oh."

Danny's mouth softened into a smile. "Behave yourself, and I might actually get in the water."

"Oh!" Steve finished undressing and slipped into his trunks. "Meet you out there?"

"Uh, no. Rule one: Steve does not go near water alone."

"We live on an island, Danny," Steve said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "That's going to be kind of difficult."

"Shut up." Danny finished changing and stood while Steve tried hard not to hop up and down like a kid. "Okay, _now_ we can go," Danny said at last, leading Steve back out to the water.

They put their guns and the radio the FBI had given them close by the side of the pool, the occasional crackle followed by someone checking in sounding louder in the giant room than it had in the locker room. Steve flashed Danny a smile and dove in at the deep end, swimming the length before popping back up at the other end to breathe.

He turned to see Danny still standing at the other end near their guns and the radio, watching with a look on his face that Steve couldn't quite place. "What?" Steve asked, wincing when the word echoed off the walls a little.

"What what?" Danny replied.

Steve shoved off the wall, speeding through the water to reach the other end, pulling himself up, his fingers inches from Danny's feet. "That look," Steve said. "What was that look?"

"I don't know what look you mean."

He did, Steve could tell, but he could also tell he wasn't getting an answer, and he didn't want to waste precious time fighting a losing battle. "You coming in?"

"I'm fine here."

"You really don't know how to swim, do you?"

With a sigh, Danny nudged the radio with a toe. "Stay here and watch this," he said. Before Steve could even nod, Danny was diving over Steve's head into the water, cutting a clean path through the first third of the pool before surfacing. He kept up a fast forward crawl all the way to the far end, doing a perfect flip and coming back up into a forward crawl again until he reached Steve once more. "See?" Danny said, barely out of breath, clinging to the side of the pool with one hand to avoid having to tread water. "I can swim."

"Wow," Steve said, surprise warring for his attention with the way drops of water clung to Danny's eyelashes. "That was...uh...I'm impressed."

"Thank you," Danny said. "Now that we've settled that, are you going to swim? I mean, that _is_ why we came here."

Steve smiled. "Right. Are you going to stay in the water?"

"I'll sit on the side," Danny said, hauling himself out to sit on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. "Someone's got to keep watch."

"There are cameras."

"Cameras can't shoot a gun." Danny nudged Steve in the stomach with one foot. "Go. Swim."

After pinching Danny's toe, Steve submerged again, swimming laps until long after he'd lost count, Danny's feet in the pool the only thing reminding him of the world outside the water each time he made it to that end. He'd needed the mind-emptying combination of exercise and the inherent sensory deprivation of being underwater even more than he'd realized, and by the time he finally stopped, one hand on the edge of the pool next to Danny's knee, he felt better than he had since he'd walked into HQ and seen Sam and John for the first time.

"Feel better?" Danny asked softly, that look on his face again.

"Much."

"Good."

Steve slid his hand up Danny's foot to his ankle. "Come in the water with me."

"Someone's got to--"

"--keep watch, I know. But you can do it from the water." He saw Danny hesitate. "We can go over on the steps, take the guns and radio with us."

Danny pulled his foot out of Steve's grasp and pushed himself up to his feet as he nodded. "As long as one of us is in reach of these," he said, holding up both their guns and the radio as he walked around the pool to the steps at the other end.

Steve swam down to join him, sitting on the lowest step so he was in the water up to his chest. Danny took a seat beside him, the water reaching his shoulders. "Happy now?" Danny asked.

"Yeah," Steve replied softly, looking away from Danny's collarbone and focusing on the water stretched out in front of them. "When my mom died," Steve said slowly, "I practically lived in the ocean behind the house. The first week I was out so long one day Mary called the Coast Guard because she thought I'd drowned."

"What about when you left?"

"Our cousins had a house on the beach in L.A., so I just traded one side of the Pacific for another." Steve leaned back on the step behind him, enjoying the feel of the water all around his body. "It's like when I'm in the water, there's nothing else. It's just me, no outside noise, nothing but how hard I can push myself."

Danny leaned back, his arm pressed against Steve's. "Should I leave you two alone?" he joked.

"When I was swimming this time," Steve said, turning back to look at Danny, "there was one extra thing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, your feet, every time I reached that end."

Danny blinked. "You were the one who wanted me to stay in the water," he said, as if he thought it was an accusation.

"No, I mean, it's not that it was bad." Steve looked for the right words. "I mean I noticed. In the ocean, in a pool, no matter how many people there are, they usually just disappear when I start swimming like that. But you were still there."

"Oh." Danny's smile drew Steve in until their lips were touching, a lingering kiss, but nothing more. "Cameras," Danny muttered against Steve's mouth.

"Right.  Cameras." He pulled back before he couldn't stop himself from embarrassing them both by going too far for video--or at least any video suitable for minors and FBI agents.

Danny bumped his shoulder against Steve's. "You should get some more swimming in before we go."

"Yeah, maybe a--"

Kono's voice, louder and more urgent than the check ins that had become background noise, cut through the radio. "Possible suspect," she said, "north corner, trying the door."

Steve and Danny were both out of the water before she'd finished, guns in hand, trained on the two doors that led in from the north corner of the building. They both whirled around when the western door opened, but it was just John and Sam, guns out. "Thought you could use extra eyes in here," John said, surveying the room.

"Thanks," Steve said.

"Suspect on the move," Kono said through the radio. "Chin, he's headed your way. Blue jeans, blue windbreaker, hood up."

"Copy that," Chin said.

They waited, seconds feeling like hours, until Chin's voice came over the radio. "Kono's with me. The suspect managed to shake her and didn't come this way. Kowalski, Brown, Jackson - anything?"

A chorus of "no's" came through, and Steve closed his eyes, lowering his gun. So close to being done with this, and now they were back at square one.

"It's okay," Sam said, and he felt her hand on his shoulder before he opened his eyes to look at her. "We had cameras on the doors--at the very least we probably know what he looks like now."

Steve nodded, straightening his spine. "Let's get out of here and find out who this guy is, then," he said, heading for the locker room. It was only when Danny bumped into him along the way that he felt the tension in his muscles start to ease.

***


	6. Chapter 6

Sam waited out John's silence through half the drive back to the Five-0 headquarters before finally giving in. "What's wrong?"

John glanced over at her in surprise before turning his attention back to the street. "Nothing's wrong."

"Normally you'd be talking away after a brush with a suspect," Sam said. "But you've barely said two words since we got in the car."

"Oh, that." John shrugged, taking the next turn with too much care before glancing at her again. "Nothing's wrong," he repeated, "it just all seemed a little familiar. Reminded me of a few years ago."

"Jack?"

He nodded. "The two of them, a serial killer--it doesn't make you think?"

"It does," Sam said quietly, "but I try not to let it interfere with the job or my judgment. Jack is dead. And he's had enough of my life."

"Agreed," John said. "It's definitely time to move forward."

Sam frowned at him, having the rare feeling she was missing a completely different conversation going on. "What do you mean?"

"Do you ever think that we moved faster when we were buried in the hunt for Jack than we have since?"

Okay, she was definitely missing something. "You think we need to move faster on this case?"

He sighed, shaking his head as he turned in to the parking lot. "Don't pay any attention to me," he said, flashing her a small smile. "I think the time difference is catching up with me."

She watched as he parked the car and turned it off. "You're sure nothing's wrong?" she asked, her hand on the door handle.

"Nothing's wrong," he said again, and she could tell he meant it, but she could also tell there was still something going on underneath it all. But she left it alone, following him into the building to find the members of Five-0 already gathered around their computer table. Kono was tapping away on the screen, pulling up the footage from the door their unsub had tried to use.

Sam looked at Steve and Danny, noticing with no surprise that they were standing so close that their arms were constantly brushing against one another. They hadn't struck her as having the slightest concept of personal space anyway, and she knew all too well how much an event like this afternoon could make you want to constantly assure yourself the person you cared about was still there. She'd lived it for years.

"There," Kono said, freezing the picture on a frame that gave them the best view they were going to get of their potential serial killer. "That's the guy I chased."

Sam glanced at Steve, who was squinting at the screen. "Do you recognize him?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Steve said after a moment. "Maybe? I mean...he's wearing a hood and it's a grainy picture. It's hard to tell."

"He also had on gloves," Kono said, and Sam could tell she hadn't forgiven herself for losing him, "so no chance of prints."

Steve leaned over the table to look Kono in the eye. "Hey, it's not your fault," he said. "He gave everybody the slip."

Sam watched as some silent communication passed between the two of them before Kono straightened her shoulders, some of her swagger returning. "Okay," Kono said, all business, "I'll run the picture through facial recognition." She looked at Sam and John. "I'll also send it to George, see if he can check it against a shorter list from his searches, but this could take a little while."

"Looks like we're ordering dinner in, then," Steve said.

***

They ended up in two rooms with their food. Chin and Kono stayed in the bullpen with their dinner, conferencing with George and going through files looking for a match on the suspect. Sam and John joined Steve and Danny in the conference room to eat.

Steve finished his dinner while discussing the merits of the Sig P226 over the Beretta 92 with John. They'd gone through several other guns, losing Sam and Danny at some point to a discussion about their daughters, from what Steve had overheard in snippets during his conversation with John.

"I have a Mauser C96 in the armory," Steve said. "It's a beauty, but it's not what I want in my hand if I'm facing an armed suspect."

"You have one?" John leaned forward. "I've never seen one in person."

"Come on, I'll show you." Steve gave Danny a smile as he led John out the door. He took him down to the armory and unlocked his favorite case (the one Danny liked to call Steve's Toy Shop) and took out the Mauser, giving it a physical check before handing it over.

"It's gorgeous," John said, inspecting it carefully.

Steve nodded. "Shoots great, too, when it shoots. Problem is, it jams about every fifth bullet."

"Must be nice," John said, handing the gun back to Steve, "having access to this kind of arsenal."

"There are perks to running a task force for the Governor," Steve admitted, leaving out the ways that had changed with the new governor. There were still perks--mainly the fact that the new Governor wasn't one of the head criminals. He hoped. "I would think the FBI would have some nice weapons."

"The FBI has very nice, officially sanctioned weapons in one of three government-approved styles."

Steve laughed. "The Navy is similar, though with a slightly larger variety."

"I had a few nice pieces of my own, but when Sam and I moved in together, I didn't want to keep any more guns in the house than what we used for work, not with Chloe living there, so I got rid of them."

"How old is Chloe?"

"Nineteen."

Steve raised his eyebrows; he'd been picturing someone about Grace's age. "So she's not your daughter?"

"No, though she doesn't remember her dad very well. She was just a kid when he died." John's tense look relaxed into a smile. "She's not officially my daughter, but...it still feels that way."

"I get that." He hadn't been around Grace long enough to have the kind of relationship John seemed to have with Chloe, but he certainly loved and protected her as if she was his, because she was Danny's. And because she was impossible not to love. "How long have you and Sam been together?"

"About five years," John said, handing the Mauser back to Steve. "We moved in together a few years ago."

Steve put the gun away and locked the cabinet. "And it works? I mean, working together, living together?"

John raised an eyebrow. "You mean you don't know?"

"Well," Steve said, clearing his throat, "I mean, we've only been...it's new."

"Sorry," John said with a slight smile. "Sam tells me I have no tact."

Steve laughed. "Funny, Danny says the same thing about me, just with more words."

"He does seem a little..."

"Verbose?"

"Something like that."

After securing the second lock, Steve turned to lean against the cabinet. "He drove me absolutely nuts for the first couple of days," he admitted. "I swear I could still hear him talking in my sleep. Now..." Steve shrugged. "to be honest, I can't stand silence anymore. And I hope to God he never hears me say that, or I will never hear the end of it."

"At least you wouldn't have to worry about silence."

"Good point," Steve said. "So why aren't the two of you married?" he asked, then shook his head. "Sorry. See? No tact."

"It's okay," John said, leaning against the wall. "Honestly?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box, opening it to reveal a diamond. "I've had this for about six weeks, looking for the right time to ask her. When we caught a case in Hawaii, I thought it was perfect, but now that we're here...I don't know. Things are good. What if I screw them up by asking, you know?"

Steve did know. All too well. But. "If there's one thing I've learned in the last couple of months," he said slowly, "it's not to leave things too late. I nearly lost my chance this year. Twice.  I wouldn't want to make that mistake again."

"I know," John said. "After everything with Jack terrorizing us for years, I felt so lucky to get a chance for what I have...now I'm nervous about asking for more."

"Then I guess the real question is can you live with just what you have?" Steve said, pushing off the cabinet. "Come on," he said, looking at his watch. "Danny will send SWAT thinking this guy has attacked if we're gone much longer."

"Are you sure the two of you aren't actually married?" John joked.

"Sometimes I wonder," Steve said as he led the way back upstairs.

***

"Just wait," Sam said, leaning up from the couch in Steve's office to put her plate on the table. "You think it's rough now--wait until she goes to college."

"How long has Chloe been gone?" Danny asked.

"Ten months."

Danny's eyes widened. "First year, huh?"

"She's just finishing her summer session exams," Sam said with a nod. "I thought her first boyfriends were difficult--they had nothing on her first set of exams last year. She was on the phone with us every night for a week."

"Not just you? I mean, you're her mom."

Sam shook her head, remembering several of the more difficult calls. "There were a couple of times that she absolutely refused to talk to me. She'd only talk to John. Said I was, and I quote, 'too damn perfect to understand how hard this was.'"

Danny's laughter was kind. "Suddenly I feel much better about Grace asking to talk to Steve last week and refusing to tell me why."

"Get used to that," Sam said. "I hope he's not too much of a pushover when it comes to her, or you're in trouble."

"I am so screwed," Danny said, dropping his head into his hands.

"Afraid so," Sam said with a laugh.

He looked up with her, a question in his eyes as he played with his beer bottle for a long moment. "So you and John...why aren't you married? If you don't mind my asking," he added quickly.

She shook her head. "I don't mind," she said, tracing the edge of her glass with a finger while she thought about how to answer. "I'd say 'he hasn't asked,' but I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't know he'd have asked years ago if he thought he was sure of the answer."

"He doesn't seem that insecure."

Sam laughed. "He's not, believe me. But...." She lifted her eyes to meet Danny's. "These past few days...you're getting just an idea of what it's like. Imagine living like this for years." She saw him wince. "And then imagine you were replacing the last guy the killer murdered for daring to love his muse."

The wince faded into sympathy, but the kind she could actually deal with. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to dredge anything up."

"It's okay. The odd thing is, it doesn't really bother me as much anymore. Jack's dead, we're fine, Chloe's far more well-adjusted than I probably had any right to even hope...he hindered a few years of my life, but he didn't take it all." She shrugged. "And I got John out of it, so...."

"None of which answers my question," Danny said, eyeing her closely.

"And this is why it's so hard always being around detectives," Sam said with mock frustration, giving him a smile to let him know she was kidding. "I don't know," she said after a moment. "I could ask him. I know him well enough that I could probably just hint around until he asked me. I just...things are good. We have a good life. I don't want to mess that up."

Danny was still watching her closely, and she forced herself not to squirm in her seat. "I would think that you would understand better than most people that you never know what's going to happen," he said slowly. "You can't put things off forever, because there isn't a forever."

"So does that mean you and Steve are headed to the courthouse sometime soon for a civil union?" she asked.

"I'm going to assume you know what you did just there," Danny said with a grin, pointing at her, "and I don't have to explain deflection to someone with your talents."

Sam laughed. "No. You don't. And your point is well taken. But my questions still stands."

"We've only been together a couple of months. Though judging by the number of times someone's asked how long we've been married, apparently it seems longer."

"I would imagine most people would think that, yes," Sam said, nodding, not managing to hide her smile. "You do act a bit...old married couple."

"He makes me crazy," Danny said with a shrug. "This... _thing_ between us doesn't change that."

"It wouldn't," Sam said. "How'd you meet, anyway? A case?"

She hadn't expected a faint hint of pain mixed with amusement in Danny's eyes. "His father was murdered," he said softly, "and Steve showed up at the crime scene and pulled a gun on me."

"He pulled a gun on you?" Sam said, surprised.

"Well, to be fair, I pulled mine, too."

She tilted her head, giving him an amused look. "Was there a measuring stick involved before this meeting ended?"

Danny laughed. "No. But by the end of the day, he'd joined the Navy Reserves, taken on a task force, conscripted me into service as his partner and gotten me shot, so there really wasn't a lot of time for measuring."

"That's...a busy first date."

He laughed. "You know...I hadn't thought about it that way, but I suppose that was kind of our first date." He shook his head. "All those other times I'd apparently been doing it wrong...without the guns and fist fights."

"Fist fights?"

"Yeah, I might've punched him." She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning, but he shook his head. "Long story," he said, "and they'll be back any minute."

"I'll buy you a drink sometime and you can tell me more."

Danny nodded. "Deal."

He clinked his bottle against her glass just as Steve and John walked back into the office. "Did we miss anything?" Steve asked, eyeing Danny.

"Not a thing," Danny said, shaking his head. "No things at all."

"Danny, what did you tell her?"

Sam laughed as Danny held up his hands in protest. "I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true."

"Okay," Steve said, "but your version of the truth--"

Kono came running into the room, cutting him off. "We think we have a name," she said, turning and running back out.

***


	7. Chapter 7

Steve was first out the door, all but running into the bullpen to see two pictures up on the two overhead screens not showing George's video call. The first he recognized as the one from the natatorium that afternoon. The second was a military ID with a photo that looked like the suspect.

"Andrew Wise," Kono said. "Age 42, computer programmer for Naval Intelligence."

Steve squinted at the ID photo. "He looks familiar," he said, "but I spent most of my time with Intelligence out in the field." Most of it chasing Hesse, but he wasn't going there right now. "He was at BUD/s?"

"That's where it gets tricky," George said. "Andrew Wise was in classes 229 and 232. But he's not in the records as being in 225 or 226. However," he added, "there were changes made to those records, so it's possible he was one of those."

Still squinting, Steve tried to remember the scores of guys who'd shown up the first week, thinking they were ready for the challenge, and disappeared before he could really learn their names. "There was one guy who rolled for medical within a week," he said slowly, eyes closed now as he tried to remember. "But that wasn't his name. It was...James, I think." He focused on a particular face. "James...Weiss?"

He opened his eyes to see George apparently scrolling down his screen. "Bingo," he said, his face splitting into a wide grin. "We have a James Weiss in class 225, rolled the first week for medical. He came back in 226 and quit the first day of Hell Week."

"Can you get pictures, George?" Sam asked.

A few seconds of frowning, and George shook his head. "The images are corrupt, which I'm guessing is not an accident."

"He probably corrupted them when he changed the names," Sam said. Steve looked at her, to find her staring back. "You're sure this was the guy you knew as James Weiss?"

Steve looked at him again, letting out a long breath. "Sure enough that it would hold up in court, no. Sure enough to use it to question him? Hell yes."

"Well, if it helps any," George said, "Andrew Wise was born Andrew James Wise. And according to his records, his 'first' time in BUD/s, he quit, claiming a medical problem, and his 'second' time, he got stuck in dive training, and they wouldn't pass him. He turned 30 right after, so that was his last chance."

"It has to be him," Steve said. "It has to be." He felt Danny's hand on his arm, and only then did Steve realize the desperation in his own voice. "Nothing else makes sense," he added, sounding a little more certain.

Chin tapped on the computer table and swiped his fingers to replace their surveillance frame with a different one. "Guys, this is from yesterday, at an ABC Store in an area where there are several cheap hotels. There's a credit card transaction from the same time with the name A. Wise. It's been used a few more times this week at that same store."

"Did he use the card at any of the hotels?" Steve asked.

After some more tapping, Chin shook his head. "But he might have paid cash for the hotel, assuming it would be harder to track him to a hotel if he didn't pay cash." He did some more tapping. "Aha! Wise maxed his ATM card a week ago, and made another withdrawal this morning at a bank near that store."

"He has to be in one of those hotels," Steve said.

"Or a house nearby, or he's just going to that area to throw people off and he's staying on the other side of the island," Danny said, his hand tightening briefly on Steve's arm.

Steve gave him an annoyed look, but the calm, you know I'm right one he received in return deflated his anger.  "Fine," he said, "but we should still go over there and canvass the--"

"'We'?" Danny said, sitting up straighter. "' _We_ ' are not going anywhere near this guy. And by 'we,' I mean _you_. We," he said, waving a hand at the rest of the room and himself, "will go, but you," he added, pointing at Steve, "are staying here under lock and key."

"Danny," Steve yelled, "I have every right--"

"Guys!" John's voice rang out, cutting him off. "We'll send agents to canvass with pictures, and if he's spotted, we can discuss who's going, okay?"

Steve and Danny nodded, still having their own little argument without saying a word, until Steve saw something in Danny's face that made him back down. He could handle angry Danny, but the flash of hurt he'd seen was something he couldn't bring himself to cause again.

Danny saw Steve give in and gave him a little smile that managed to be cocky and not all at the same time. "How quickly can we get people over there?" Danny asked, looking over Steve's head to where Sam and John stood near the computer table.

"I've already sent all three pictures to the agents we had on duty," George said. "They should all be in the neighborhood within ten minutes."

Steve glanced at Sam and John. "So we might have a sighting in under half an hour?"

"Possibly," Sam said with a shrug. "Depends on how spread out the hotels are, how fast people answer, if they get lucky...."

"Then we should--"

"Have a conversation," Danny said, pulling Steve towards the door. "We'll be right back," he called over his shoulder as he dragged Steve out of the room and into Steve's office.

"Danny, I know what you're gonna say, but I have to--"

"Would you zip it?" Danny said, voice low and fierce. He met Steve's gaze evenly, staring at him for a long moment. "I know there's no way I'm going to talk you out of going," he said finally. "You think I don't know you by now?"

Steve blinked. "But out there you said--"

"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't going to stop trying to talk sense in you, but I know when I don't have time to bother bashing my head against the McGarrett brick wall anymore."

"So I can go?"

"You mean I can stop you?"

Steve considered that for half a second. "Well, no, but...."

"Look, just...promise me three things, all right?"

Steve nodded without hesitation. As long as none of those things involved getting left behind, he could do them.

"Promise me you won't go barging in until we're sure that he's there _and_ that it's not a trap." When Steve nodded, Danny continued. "Promise me you'll do what you're told--and no, nobody's going to tell you to stay behind, but if someone tells you to get back, and not be the first one in, or anything like that, just listen to them?"

At Steve's slow nod, Danny took a deep breath. "And promise me you'll come back here alive and without any additional holes in you, because you have enough of them in your head for five people already."

Despite the joke, he could tell Danny was serious about the coming back part. "I will come back in one piece," Steve said solemnly. "Somebody's got to make that idiot out there propose to Sam," he said with a grin.

Danny laughed, his shoulders slumping back down to about normal level, instead of up around his ears. "Those two make us look positively healthy in the relationship category, don't they?" he said.

"I think you might be right," Steve said. "Which is...."

"Sad," Danny finished. He grabbed Steve's elbow and steered him towards the door. "Come on, let's go catch the asshole so we can work on those two and their relationship issues."

They went back into the bullpen to find the rest of the team gearing up in anticipation of a sighting of Wise. Fifteen minutes and four hotels with no sign of him later, they got the call they'd been waiting for.

"The Royal Kuhio," John said as he hung up his phone, already heading for the door. "Let's go."

Steve didn't argue when Danny insisted on driving, though he couldn't stop himself from tapping his foot or drumming his fingers on the arm rest as he watched the street lights go by. "Can't you drive any faster?" he complained.

"What did I say about being first in?" Danny asked, but Steve noticed the Camaro picked up speed. Danny still managed to time it so that Sam, John, Chin and Kono were all out of their cars by the time the Camaro pulled up beside them a couple of doors down from the hotel.

The agent who'd done the canvassing was waiting to fill them in. The desk manager at the hotel had identified the man in the picture as the one staying in room 308. He'd paid in cash, which she thought was a little strange, so she remembered him.

Steve checked his gun as the team, flanked by three additional agents, made their way quickly and quietly down to the hotel. The additional agents went to cover exits, leaving Five-0 with John and Sam. Danny tapped Steve on the arm as they got to the stairs, giving him a look, and Steve let the others go first, bringing up the rear with reluctance.

When they approached the door, Sam moved a little further down the hall, out of the way, but gun at the ready. Steve watched from the back as John braced himself just to the side of the door, Danny close beside him. It was wrong, seeing someone else up there with Danny. Even with Chin and Kono on the other side of the door, he didn't like it. It was Steve's job to protect him--they always had each other's backs, and he felt like Danny was exposed up there without him. But he'd made a promise.

John raised his hand, nodded to the others, and banged on the door. "FBI! Open up!"

Shots rang out, bullets popping through the door as everyone jumped back. When the firing ceased, John kicked the door in and jumped back again, waiting for the next volley of bullets to end.

Feet itching to move, Steve forced himself to stay back until John and Danny were inside, Chin and Kono close behind. Only then did Steve cautiously enter the room, just in time to hear more bullets, and see Wise go down hard, his gun falling on the floor beside him.

Steve moved forward then, covering Wise with his Sig while John kicked Wise's gun out of the way. John glanced over, saw Steve covering, and bent to check for a pulse. "Still alive," he said, and Steve turned around to tell Kono to call an ambulance.

Which was when he saw Danny.

He was sitting on the floor, holding his arm, and all Steve could focus on was the blood seeping through Danny's fingers. Steve didn't remember moving, but he must have, because next thing he knew he was on the floor next to Danny, moving Danny's hand out of the way to look at the injury, his hands gripping Danny's bicep on either side of the wound.

"Steven!"

Steve started, jerking his eyes up to Danny's face. "Oh, look who's finally listening," Danny muttered. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch. Which you would know if you hadn't gone all hyper-focused SEAL on me and tuned out human speech."

"That's a lot of blood for a scratch," Steve said dumbly, looking at Danny's shirt sleeve, the bloody rip in it reminiscent of their first day as partners.

"I bleed easily," Danny said. When Steve just stared at the blood, Danny nudged him with his knee. "Hey, look at me. No, up here," he said, and Steve tore his eyes away from the blood to look at Danny's face once more. "I said I'm fine."

Steve felt a soft hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Kono hovering. "Ambulance is three minutes out," she said before moving away.

"See?" Danny said, as Steve looked back at him. "Even if I was really hurt, it wouldn't matter--they'll be here to patch me up any minute."

"Danny...."

"Let it go, babe. I'm fine, you're fine, the bad guy's not so fine...call it a win."

"But..."

Danny shook his head. "No buts," he said. "It's a win."

After a moment, Steve nodded, even if he didn't quite feel as calm and accepting as he was pretending to be. "It's a win," he said, letting his hand drop to rest on Danny's thigh.

Rolling his eyes as if he could see right through Steve's façade--which, Steve realized, he probably could--Danny sighed. "You know what I don't get?" Danny asked.

"What?"

"The first day I met you, you got me shot and blasted through a window, I kill somebody for you, and you thank me by nearly ripping my arm out of my socket. And now you're afraid I'm dying from a little scratch. What gives?"

Steve choked back a small laugh, more of relief than anything. "Well, I didn't know then what a delicate flower you were," he said, shrugging. "Now that I do I'm afraid a strong wind might break you."

"Delicate..." Danny's mock annoyance gave way to laughter, his eyes warming Steve from head to toe. "Delicate flower, huh? You're gonna pay for that one."

"I'm counting on it," Steve said, letting his hand run up Danny's thigh a couple of inches.

The EMTs arrived, and Steve let them push him just far enough away that they could stitch Danny up before pronouncing him fine, just slightly worse than a graze.

Wise was less fortunate, rushed out of the room to one of the waiting ambulances and, Steve assumed, to the hospital. He couldn't quite find it in himself to hope Wise died, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to hope he lived, either. As long as Wise was somewhere he was no longer a threat, Steve didn't much care.

"Hey." Danny's voice was soft, and Steve realized he was staring at Danny's arm, the bandage just showing through the bloody rip in his sleeve. "Think maybe you could take me home before I take some of the lovely pain killers they gave me? I'd like to be able to walk into the house under my own power. Wouldn't want to give you more fuel for the 'delicate flower' idea."

Steve nodded. "Come on," he said, helping Danny up. Chin and Kono gave them a nod from across the room, where they were keeping a close watch over the forensics sweep, and Steve knew they'd check in later, so he didn't bother to go over.

Sam was standing by the door, smiling as she watched him and Danny, Steve realized. He stopped when he got to the door. "I don't think there's much doubt this was our guy," Sam said, nodding at the bed, which was covered in a jumble of papers. Steve could make out a couple of newspaper articles that looked familiar, as well as something that, from the picture and form, looked to be Steve's Naval records, and floor plans that looked like they could be of the natatorium."

"Looks like it," Steve said. He'd want to look through those papers eventually, but he had other priorities tonight. "I'm going to take him home," he told Sam, nodding at Danny. "Can we deal with the rest of this in the morning?"

"Of course. We could all use some sleep. We'll meet you at your offices tomorrow."

"Good. And...thank you."

Her smile deepened. "You're welcome. Take care of him," she said, nodding at Danny, who looked like he was about to pass out without the painkillers.

"I will."

He led Danny out to the car, holding the passenger door open despite Danny's slurred protest that he could get himself into his own damn car without help. As Steve suspected, Danny was asleep before they'd even hit the highway. He managed to wake up enough to get himself into the house, though, and even up the stairs, though Steve followed close behind, just in case.

Danny fell onto the bed, eyes closing. "Hang on a minute," Steve said, and went around to help Danny out of his clothes, putting the shirt aside to throw out. "Here." He fished the painkillers out of his cargo pants pocket. "Take these."

He handed them to Danny, along with the bottle of water he'd brought upstairs, lid off. Danny took the pills and handed the water back to him. "Thanks," he muttered, already falling back into sleep.

Steve stared at him for a long moment, wondering if Danny had really slept the past couple of days, or if he'd just laid awake, waiting for something bad to happen to Steve. He knew if their positions were reversed, he wouldn't get much sleep.

But they were both safe now. He knew he should probably clean up, or at least go turn off the light he'd left on in the kitchen, but then he looked at Danny, curled up on his side of the bed.

"To hell with it," Steve said, shucking his clothes as he walked around to his side of the bed and climbed in, just managing to gather Danny in his arms before he drifted off to sleep.

***


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was just starting to filter into the bedroom when Steve woke. Danny's eyes were closed, but when Steve shifted, they opened, clear and beautiful. "Morning," Danny said, his voice husky and low, making Steve's arms tighten around him.

"Morning. You up for going in today?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Danny muttered, the words losing all their sting with his smirk. "I was shot; I'm not dead."

"Sorry. My mistake."

Danny nodded. "Just don't make it again," he said, ending on a yawn.

"How's the arm?" Steve asked.

"I'll live."

"I would hope so." Steve let his fingertips drift over the bandage, stained with a little red over the wound. "Kind of ironic, isn't it?" he asked, his gaze moving back to Danny's face.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"You were so intent on protecting me, but you were the one who got hurt."

"I guess it just proves that we can't always protect each other," Danny said slowly.

Steve thought about that for a moment. "Doesn't mean we can't try."

"We always have each other's backs. That's about all we can do."

He felt the weight of Danny's stare, understood what Danny was really saying. "Well, we could try locking each other in interrogation, but I think we've established that won't work on me."

"I never said I couldn't break out of there," Danny said. "In fact, let's go, and I'll prove it to you." He stretched, then wrinkled his nose. "I think I could use a shower first, though."

"Me, too," Steve said.

"Of course," Danny said, his foot brushing up Steve's calf, "I might need some help, what with this arm and all."

Steve nodded solemnly, not a hint of a smile. "Of course. What kind of partner would I be if I let you go in there without back up, right?"

"Absolutely." Danny leaned in for a kiss. "In fact, I think you should back me up in the shower from now on."

"Anytime, babe. Just lead the way."

***

It was lunchtime by the time they finished up with statements and preliminary reports and all of the other initial post-case red tape. Sam knew that she and John would have time to finish the paperwork on the plane the next day, so she agreed readily when Steve asked them to join their team for lunch.

They went back to the Hilton Hawaiian Village, which she'd barely seen anything but the lobby of during their stay there, with the exception of dinner their first night. They had lunch outside, enjoying the relaxed camaraderie that only came from having gone through a case together. She'd rarely had a case with an outside team that didn't end in some level of it, and on the few occasions she'd worked with another unit more than once, it had always been as strong when they'd worked together again.

While she didn't wish danger on anyone from their team, she had to admit she wouldn't mind working another case with them again. And not just for the work--she was more than curious to see how Steve and Danny fared down the road.

Chin and Kono said their goodbyes after lunch, pleading a family event. Danny and Steve lingered over their beers before finally getting up. "I have to say," Steve said, giving John a look that left Sam puzzled, "the path over there," he waved a hand over John's shoulder, "is gorgeous. One might even say it's a _romantic_ setting."

Danny nodded. "A great place to talk, too," he added, leaving Sam looking between the two of them, and John, who was turning a bit red.

Steve and Danny said goodbye, giving John a few more odd looks before walking off, the bill in Steve's hand at his insistence. "I guess we should probably go see what the fuss is about with this path," John said, not quite looking at her as he got up.

He reached out to take her hand and help her up, but kept her hand in his as they walked across the pool area to the path. They were right; it was beautiful and smelled wonderful, and Sam felt the most amazing sense of peace she'd had since they'd caught the case.

She stopped when John did, his hold on her hand keeping her close by his side. "Sam..." he said, and she turned to face him, their toes touching. His one hand was still holding hers, but the other was in his pocket, she noticed. "We've been together for a long time," he said carefully, "and I can't imagine ever loving anyone the way I love you."

Sam smiled, squeezing his hand. "Me, too," she said quietly, the fidgeting of his hand in his pocket catching her attention again. She looked down, noticing an odd shape there.

Oh. _Oh_.

She barely had time to process before he actually got down on one knee, pulling the box out of his pocket and opening it with one hand, the other still holding hers. "Then would you marry me?"

She blinked a few times before she realized she hadn't actually answered, as his brows started to draw together. "Yes! Of course!" She pulled him to his feet to give him a long kiss before wrapping her arms tightly around him, smiling as she blinked away tears.

He pulled back a little after a moment to take the ring out and put it on her finger, and she had no idea which one of their hands were shaking. Maybe both, but then it didn't matter, as the solitaire sparkled in the sun, disappearing from view when she pulled him in for another kiss.

This time when she pulled away, she smiled up at him. "I take it this is why Steve and Danny were acting so odd?"

"They might've given me a bit of a nudge, yeah," John admitted sheepishly. "But...I mean, I've been waiting for the right time, and when we caught a case here...it seemed like fate."

"You didn't have to wait for the perfect setting, you know."

"Yeah, but admit it, it makes a much better story."

She laughed. "Maybe if we leave out the part about the serial killer."

"There is that." He sobered a little. "You're sure you want to say yes? It's not just the setting?"

"I'd have married you if you'd asked me at the bottom of a coal mine," she said, pulling him close again. "Does that answer your question?"

He nodded, leaning in for one more kiss. "I was thinking," he said, holding her close, "what do you think about Hawaii for a honeymoon?"

"As long as you promise me no murderers to chase down, I accept."

"I'll see what I can do."

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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